Failing Jesus
by Sita-chan
Summary: [complete!] [slash, snittery and eventual blinktrack] Blink, Racetrack, Snitch, and Skittery head off to senior retreat and find God... among other things. Rating for language, slash, and gratuitous babble about porn.
1. Bus Blunders and Lovebug Laments

I totally blame this on Ellen. I just got back from retreat, and the first words out of her mouth were, "why don't you write a fic about the boys going on retreat?" So, I am. -sweatdrop- But it will be _funny_! And, do please keep in mind that, just like Exact Change, pretty much everything actually happened. -beams- So, this fic is dedicated to **Michelle, Megan, and, most of all, Ellen,** for actually doing and saying these goofy things. XD

Disclaimers: Woo, don't own _Newsies_. Credit for the title goes to Lutelles.

Warnings: Slashiness, language, some things that could possibly be considered sacrilegious, which I _am_ sorry for, since I _am_ Catholic. Maybe not a very good one... but I am! -sheepish grin-

Failing Jesus

Chapter One: Bus Blunders and Lovebug Laments

"Guys? Guys, can you listen up for a sec?"

The deafening chatter in the charter bus kinda died down to a dull roar as Mr. Reasin hopped up onto one of the chairs near the front. Even though he was standing on his tiptoes on a chair, he was still an inch or two shorter than most of us. Damn, he was short. I'd sort of forgotten how short he was.

The rest of the noise dissipated totally, and we acknowledged our head counselor with a couple of bored glances. Snitch and Skittery finished hiding their CD players and CDs, which they weren't supposed to have, since it was retreat, and plopped down into the two seats in front of Racetrack and me. Grinning, I reached down to stash my battered, green binder beneath my own seat.

Reasin did a quick head count, then nodded. "Okay, boys, welcome to Senior Retreat, 2004."

"WOOHOO!"

"Thank you, Damien."

"No prob, Reas!" Snitch replied, beaming. Skittery whacked him upside the head.

"As you already know, we'll be staying at the Solomon Episcopal Center, just like we did last year for Junior Retreat. I'll be passing around room numbers later, since you all already know who you're rooming with. I hope that those of you who are four to a room remembered to bring a sleeping bag."

I snickered. "Hey, Skitts, did you bring a sleeping bag?"

He snorted and placed his hand dangerously close to the inside of Snitch's thigh. "Like I _need_ a sleeping bag."

"You can do pretty much anything that isn't illegal until we get to the Center. And if you eat, please be _neat_. Wow, that rhymed. Anyway! Carry on, guys!"

Immediately, Snitch and Skittery turned around to face us. Snitch had a pudding pack with a straw stabbed through the top.

"... Snitch, are you drinking pudding through a straw?"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"... you know, you _can_ drink your pudding without looking like you're giving the straw a blowjob."

I rolled my eyes as Racetrack cracked up and Skittery fought to keep from jumping him. "I swear to God, why are all my friends gay?"

"Excuse me, I am _bi_," Racetrack replied firmly, pretending to glare.

"And, Blink, you're gay anyway, so shut up."

I burst out laughing. "I so am not!"

Really, it's kind of sad that the four of us consider this a totally normal conversation. Snitch and Skittery make out and try to convince me that I'm gay, while I vehemently deny it. Racetrack just sort of stands in the back and laughs at us all. Or sings. A _lot_. People don't seem to know just how much Race loves to sing.

But, believe me, we _do_, since he gets into these moods where he _won't shut up_.

Which is why we had forbidden him to bring his CD player.

Even though I know he did it anyway.

"How long is this bus ride again?" Snitch asked as he tossed his empty pudding cup into the compartment above our seats.

"Like... an hour and a half."

"Oh, dammit," Racetrack muttered.

I grinned. "Fear not, gentlemen, for I have brought entertainment!" Slowly, I reached down underneath my seat and pulled out my infamous green binder.

"... Blink, tell me that's not what I think it is."

"Oh, but it is."

"You brought your binder of _Buffy porn_ on _retreat_?!"

"Mwahahaha, fear my mad sacrilegiousness!"

"Oh, my God, Blink, you have issues."

"Duh, I so already know that." Beaming, I flipped open the binder and began to bask in its glory.

Racetrack raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think that you should open this on the bus?"

"Come on, we're in the back. No one can see us." I paused for dramatic effect, then continued. "Unless there are _cameras_."

Racetrack grinned, then reached up to poke at the air conditioner. "Hello? Anyone up there?"

I beamed up at the "camera" as Snitch and Skittery stole my bag of Starburst lollipops. "We're reading porn!"

"This is God!" Skittery boomed suddenly in a gravely voice. "You're all going straight to hell! ... and you can bring your binder with you!"

Snitch choked on his lollipop, and Racetrack abducted my binder.

"Hey!"

"Oh, shut up, you've already read them all anyway." He smirked at me, then flipped a couple of pages and began to read.

However, a loud whistle echoed throughout the bus before he could really get into it.

"Hey, freaks!" Jack Kelly, our slightly insane, weirdly funny student council president, hopped up on one of the seats in the front and let out another loud whistle. He grinned and gestured to a boom box in the front of the bus. "Now, I know we ain't supposed to have CD players on retreat, but, technically, this isn't retreat. This is the bus ride _to_ retreat. Right, Reas?"

Reasin shrugged helplessly. "I can't see or hear anything right now. La, la, laaaa."

We snickered as Jack reached for the play button.

"Unfortunately, we didn't have any good CDs. The only CD I've got is one that my ex-girlfriend made in seventh grade."

"Oh, God, I'm scared."

"So, if your ears start to bleed too much, I'll take it off." He grinned again and pressed the play button.

And we froze.

"Please tell me that this isn't what I think it is..." Racetrack groaned, sinking down into his seat and pulling the binder over his head.

"Holy crap! LFO!" Snitch shrieked, waving his lollipop like a baton.

"Is it sad that this was my favorite song in grammar school?" I asked with a sheepish grin.

Skittery snorted. "And you call yourself a straight man."

"Shut up, I'm singing! Sometimes it's black, sometimes it's white, sometimes she's wrong, sometimes I'm right-"

"You're gaaaaaaay!"

"Sometimes we talk about it and we figure it out, but then she just changed her mind-"

"'Hi, I'm Blink and I'm _gay_.'"

"Sometimes, I'm hot, sometimes she's cold, sometimes my head wants to explode-"

"GAY, GAY, GAY."

"SHUT UP, SKITTS."

We all managed to stop laughing long enough to join in on the last line. Even Racetrack, who still looked like he wanted to set the song on fire.

"But when I think about it, I'm so in love with her... EVERY OTHER TIME!"

"Oh, my God, we are such losers," I gasped out as I laughed.

"And you are so gay."

I stuck my tongue out at Skittery and laughed again, but, really, it was starting to bother me. Not that fact that Skittery kept telling me that I was gay, because I knew that he was just joking. No, what really bothered me was that I was starting to believe him. Well, not _exactly_ believe him. Half-believe him, maybe. It was one of those vicious cycles that starts humming around your head and won't leave. Every time I'd hear him mention it, I'd laugh and mentally tell myself, "pfft, I'm not gay." But then the little, nagging voice that lives somewhere in between my eyes would pop up and say, "oh, but you might be." Then I'd force another laugh and deny it. "But you _might_ be." Then we'd continue with the "but I'm not, but you might be, but I'm _not_, but you _might_ be" until I'd realize that I was talking to myself and settle back down with a big, hard, crazy ball of doubt rolling around the back of my mind.

Not that I knew _why_ I was doubting myself. I'd been attracted to girls before. On the other hand, I'd never had a real girlfriend or anything. And what the hell did I know? Maybe I'd been confusing appreciation with attraction my entire life. Maybe I _was_ gay. It was totally possible.

But, whatever. If I actually found a guy that I was attracted to, I'd deal with it. Until then, it's Heteroville for me.

Grinning, I looked over Racetrack's shoulder to see which one he was reading. "Where are you?"

He jumped suddenly, like I scared him, and whacked me upside the head. "Don't invade my invisi-square!"

I stared at him. Even Snitch and Skittery took their attention off of my now half-empty bag of Starburst lollipops.

"Invisi-square?" I repeated.

Race nodded solemnly. "This is my _invisi-square_," he replied, drawing a box around himself with his fingers. "You don't enter the invisi-square without express permission. And write now, I'm reading porn. So, permission denied." With that, he turned his attention back to my binder and tried not to grin like an idiot.

Snitch turned around and leaned casually on the back of the seat, his head cocked quizzically to the side. "Just out of curiosity, are we going to hell for reading porn on a religious retreat?"

Skittery snorted and tugged the green apple sucker out of his mouth. "Snitch, we're going to hell anyway. We may as well go out with a bang."

Racetrack looked up and let out a laugh that could only be described as a giggle. "Heheh... _bang_."

Insert hysterical laughter here. Hey, what can I say? We have the mentality of four-year-olds.

Our laughter died down and then stopped suddenly as a new song wafted throughout the bus.

"... Jack?"

"What?"

"Please tell me that this isn't BBMak."

"Oh, it is! Feel the pain, Skitts, feel the pain!"

"Kill me now," Skittery groaned, burying his face in Snitch's shoulder.

"Hey, shut the hell up! I love this song!"

I raised an eyebrow at Racetrack. "You thought LFO was stupid, and yet, you like BB-frickin'-Mak?"

"I WILL STAAAAND UP FOR YOOOOU NO MATTER WHAT YOU'RE GOIN' THROUGH!" Racetrack howled melodramatically.

"Racetrack, don't even _pretend_ that you can't sing, because we all know you can!"

"I'm still on your siiiiide!" he finished, ignoring Snitch, as he playfully threw an arm over my shoulders and began to sway.

"Okay, choking, choking, _choking_! Race, you're _choking_ me!"

"But this is a good song!"

"... what does that have to do with me not being able to breathe?!" I demanded.

Racetrack let out a good-natured laugh and let me go. At the time, I was too pleased about my windpipe being intact to notice the weird, kind of tingly feeling that spread across my back wherever his arm touched.

"Blink, give me your arm."

I gave Skittery a skeptical glance. "Um... why?"

"Because!" He beamed. "I have a pen, and I must tattoo the mark of the Bareites on your arm."

"The mark of the Bareites?" I echoed. Skittery nodded, suddenly solemn.

"A mark that will forever brand you as a _Bare_ obsessee... at least until you take a shower, anyway."

"Like you said, forever," Race muttered. I flicked his ear. "Ow!"

"What, exactly, is this mark?"

"Snitch, please demonstrate."

Smiling like Vanna White, Snitch turned around and thrust out his hand. I squinted, attempting to see exactly what was drawn on it. It looked to be a badly-drawn car, a lollipop, a fuzzy face, a knife, and a pair of pants. The last two were connected by an equal sign.

"How is that the mark of a _Bare_ obsessee?"

"Hey, little boy, would you like a ride, a lollipop, a puppy? How about a baseball bat, there's one in my pants!" he sang merrily.

I raised an eyebrow. "That baseball bat looks like a knife."

"Shut up, the bus was shaking!"

"You are _so_ not drawing that on me."

"I'll keep singing 'You and I' until you let me," he warned. I was silent. With a nonchalant shrug, Skittery picked up from where he left off. Except, this time, he was much, _much_ louder. "NO, THANK YOU. MY MOM, SHE SAID TO NEVER TALK TO STRANGERS."

And then Snitch joined in, because he's stupid like that. "SO A KISS IS OUT OF THE QUESTION, THEN. I'LL TAKE THE CHANCE. SO WHERE WERE-"

"_Okay_!" I yelled. Hey, I know when I'm defeated. Reluctantly, I held out my hand and allowed Skittery to scribble on it. "And I thought that we were the Bar_ees_. You know, like the fan forum."

Silence.

"Well, _we're_ the Bare_ites_!" Skittery yelled as he triumphantly doodled a "puppy" that looked more like a distant cousin of the emu.

"Are we almost there?" I groaned, looking to Racetrack for support. Unfortunately, he'd already immersed himself in my Buffy smut.

"Oh, my God, you guys!" Snitch squealed loudly, pressing his face to the window. "Guys, look! Look at that skinny cow!"

Casually, I glanced out the window. Then, I stared.

"Snitch?"

"Yeah?"

"That's a _horse_."

"Cute and stupid, just the way I like 'em."

"Shut up, Skitts!"

"You know what I've always wondered?" Racetrack asked suddenly as he took a bite out of a cookie.

"What?"

He held up what was left of his cookie and pointed to the designs on it. "How do they get the designs on these cookies?"

We stared. Honestly, what would _you_ have done?

Race stared back. "What?!"

Slowly, I buried my face in my hands as Snitch and Skittery fell into each other, laughing wildly. Personally, I think that was just an excuse to inconspicuously feel each other up.

"Racetrack, you scare me sometimes."

"Come on, that was an _honest_ question!"

"That was a _douchey_ question."

"_Douchey_ isn't even a word, dumbass!"

"Children, be nice, or I'll separate you," Snitch choked out in between laughs.

"You guys totally suck."

"You do, too, Blink. Since you're _gay_."

"I HATE YOU ALL."

The guy in front of Snitch and Skitts turned around and gave us a piece of paper and a roll of his eyes. Obviously, he was not amused by our antics. Pfft. Like we care.

"Ooh, room assignments!" Skittery said, quickly scanning the sheet. "We're in thirty-eight."

"Where's that?"

"The two-story building, second floor."

"Dammit!" Racetrack groaned. "I don't feel like going up stairs. They're- are we here already?"

I frowned and glanced out of the window. Sure enough, we'd already eased onto the narrow, dusty road that wound its way up to the Solomon Episcopal Center.

"Wow, that _so_ did not feel like an hour and a half."

"Yeah, I know... dude, did you eat _all_ of my suckers?" I demanded. Snitch and Skittery glanced at each other nervously.

"Um... no?"

"You _bitches_!"

"Um... look! It's Georgie and Bobo!"

I stopped. "Who?"

"The trees!"

The bus doors swung abruptly open before I could decide whether to strangle Skittery or bang my head against the window.

Immediately, the four of us, along with the rest of the senior class of Jesuit High School, hopped to our feet and stampeded towards the door. Somehow, Skittery and Snitch managed to wiggle their way towards the front of the bus while Racetrack and I got stuck near the back.

By the time I got my binder and what was left of my bag of lollipops, the rest of the class had already gotten their crap and headed towards the rooms.

Racetrack grinned and swept into an exaggerated bow. "After you."

"Thankee, sir."

As he grinned at me, I felt a weird sort of heat kind of... wash over me. I blamed it on the fact that it was about ninety degrees outside, smiled back, and stepped down onto the well-traveled trail in front of me.

Almost immediately, a large black bug with a smaller bug attached to its ass careened into my head. Frowning, I grabbed it and identified it as a lovebug.

Then, I looked up, something that I sort of wish I hadn't done.

The Episcopal Center was actually very pretty. Trees, flowers, cute little rooms, a lake. I'd really enjoyed it last year.

Except last year, we'd visited in November. It was early September this time, and the August's weather hadn't yet gotten the memo that it was time to move out.

So the place was absolutely _swarming_ with lovebugs.

I groaned and staggered through the masses of bugs in order to retrieve my crap from the bottom of the bus. I somehow managed to dig through the stuff in my bag and triumphantly produce a small bottle of bug spray.

Ha! Fear me, lovebugs, for you shall get no remorse for entering my path!

Then, one flew in my mouth.

With a loud yelp, I made a mad dash for the larger of the two residency halls, Racetrack's laughter echoing behind me as I scampered through the curtain of insects.

END CHAPTER ONE

Ahahaha, this was so random. But that's life. I was going to end this after they'd done all their daily activities, but it would have been a loooong chapter. Actually, I was going to make this a one-shot, but it would have been the longest one-shot in the history of the universe. So, this will probably have between three and four chapters. Maybe five, if I really feel like splitting it up. Next chapter should be out fairly soon, since I already know exactly what's happening. Reviews would be absolutely loverly!


	2. Fitting the Pieces Together

I feel like such a bad Catholic after writing this. -sweatdrop- Oh, well, that's life. And if I go to hell, Ellen's coming with me! -drags her!- And so are Megan and Michelle! -dragdrag!- Anywho. I'm trying to get this and the one-shot I have planned after this out of my system because Shortie and Froggers attempted to maul me a few nights ago due to a lack of Angelsight. -sheepish grin- But these silly real-life experiences keep plaguing me! -scampers off-

Disclaimer: I don't own _Newsies_ or the various teachers. _Disney_ owns the newsies, and the teachers own themselves. -beams-

Warnings: Language, slash

****

Failing Jesus

__

Chapter Two: Fitting the Pieces Together

With a relieved sigh, I shut the door to our room behind me, brushed the remaining lovebugs off of me, and tossed my bag on the bed nearest to the door.

Snitch and Skittery had already pulled the sofa out into a bed that matched the other two in the room, complete with fuzzy, green blanket. And they'd already launched themselves into a full-blown make-out session. Racetrack was lying on the other bed, a pair of headphones melded securely to his ears, his eyes closed. I swear, I thought I heard Ashlee Simpson blaring from his CD player.

Humming softly along with "Autobiography," I pulled my bible out of my bag and shoved my binder in its place. I kept my Goldfish stashed near the bottom of my bag, since we were technically supposed to bring all of our snacks to the lobby of the biggest building, the one with the conference room and the snack room. Right. Like _that_ would happen.

Then, with an expression of fierce determination, I snatched my bug spray, dashed outside, sprayed our door as thoroughly and as quickly as I could, and then collapsed back inside.

Racetrack glanced up briefly, then turned off his CD player, a smirk on his face.

"Glad to see they haven't eaten you."

"Ha, ha. Very funny." Frowning, I turned my attention to Snitch and Skittery, who were _still_ making out. "How long do you think they're gonna keep that up?"

Race's smirk turned evil. "Until we do something about it. DOGPILE!" he howled suddenly as he launched himself on top of the sofa-bed.

"OW! Racetrack, you _freak_!"

"Race, get your bony-ass elbow out of my ribs!" Snitch managed to wiggle around a bit until I could see his face. "Blink, _help_ us!"

I laughed. "Sure, no prob." Grinning to myself, I ran across the room and, with a flying leap, landed on top of my friends.

"OH, MY GOD, I HATE YOU!"

"Jesus, that _hurts_!"

Somehow, through the laughter and the screaming, Skittery managed to slide out from the bottom of the pile and pull Snitch out with him. That, however, managed to completely flip me over and made Race lose his balance. I somehow ended up on my back with Racetrack halfway on top of me as Snitch and Skitts sat on the floor and laughed at us. The bastards.

"Okay, I hate you guys," Racetrack muttered, fighting to keep the smile off of his face, as he struggled up onto his elbows.

"Hey, you guys are the ones who dogpiled _us_!"

"Race, I love you, but could you possibly get off of me?"

"Sure. Hang on, though, you've got a lovebug in your hair."

"God _dammit_!"

He laughed and reached forward to flick one of those horrible, omnipresent _things_ out of my bangs. I made sure it wasn't planning on flying back to lay eggs in my skull, then blew a piece of hair out of my face.

I blinked when I realized that Race hadn't moved.

He was just kind of... looking at me. At first, I figured that he'd discovered a nest of those damn bugs in my hair and was wondering how to break it to me gently. But I soon realized that that wasn't the case; his eyes were too wide, too filled with something that looked an awful lot like confusion. The hand that he'd used to remove the bug from my hair hovered near me, moving slightly closer, then a bit farther away, like he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. And _that_ was a bit unnerving. I'd never seen Racetrack look like he didn't know what to do. Confidence was a part of his character; he _always_ knew what to do, and even if he didn't, he sure as hell wouldn't let anyone else know that. So I had no idea what was going on.

His hovering hand moved closer at an excruciatingly slow pace until he finally brushed his fingertips against my cheek. It wasn't anything, really. If I hadn't been paying attention, I probably wouldn't have felt it. But something about that one touch sent this... I don't know this, wave of heat just _crashing_ through me. I knew that I was blushing, but I had no idea why.

"Check it out, I'm the Moses of bugs!"

Racetrack jumped suddenly at Snitch's comment, and whatever I'd seen for those few seconds was gone, just like that. He quickly rolled to the side and struggled into a sitting position, and I noticed that he was breathing more heavily than usual. Quickly, I glanced up. Snitch was parading in front of the open door, coating himself with my bug spray.

"I'm, like, parting them!" Snitch crowed. "They can't touch me! Hahaha, they can't touch meeeee, they can't- oh, crap, it touched me," he muttered, frowning as a bug landed on his shoulder.

Racetrack cleared his throat and got to his feet. "If Snitch is done being a dumbass, I think we have to go to the lobby." With that, he snatched his bible off of the table next to the sofa-bed and walked quickly out of the room.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Skittery looking at me, a thousand questions written in his eyes. But I was too busy staring, shocked, at the wide-open door.

What the _hell_ had just happened?

-----

I tried to totally forget about what had happened as I trudged along the trail to the Center's main building. But Skittery and Snitch ended up walking a little bit behind me to talk about... I don't know, boyfriend things. So, I was left with nothing but my bible and my thoughts.

I tried to sort myself out. Believe me, I did. I tried to answer all the questions sloshing through my head, one at a time. But I couldn't come to a set conclusion on any of them. I didn't know why Racetrack had been looking at me like that or why I felt the way I did. I just didn't _know_.

So, by the time I walked into the lobby, I was even more confused than I'd been ten minutes before.

"Hey!" I raised an eyebrow as Racetrack walked towards me.

"Um, hey."

He frowned. "What's the matter?"

Well, obviously _he_ wasn't worrying about it. And if he wasn't, why should I? It was probably nothing, after all. Just some kind of weird... thing. A thing that happened. Yeah, that's it.

"Don't worry about it."

He shrugged and nodded as we headed towards the counter to grab a blank name tag. Quickly, we both snatched a Sharpie, making sure that they were the same color, since that's how they divided us into groups, and scribbled our names on them.

"Where are Snitch and Skitts?"

"I'm really not sure."

Suddenly, one of Jack's shrill whistles pierced the air.

"Hey, guys! Now that everybody's got their name tag, we're all gonna move into the conference room for the opening prayer!"

We glanced at each other, then headed into the pale green-carpeted room without another word.

Much to my surprise, Snitch and Skittery had already claimed four seats near the middle of the room. Yes, the middle. Teachers have already realized that the troublemakers sit near the back. Get with the times, people. The middle is the new back.

"You guys got here fast," Racetrack commented as we collapsed into the two empty seats. Skittery shrugged, grinning.

"We snuck in through the snack room because Snitch wanted some of that citrus peach fruit drink shit from the drink machine."

"The snack room is locked."

Snitch snorted as he held up a paper cup filled with what I could only assume was the citrus peach juice. "Like that's ever stopped me and my almighty lock pick."

"I can't believe you brought a lock pick on retreat."

"I can't believe you brought _porn_ on retreat."

"He's got a point there, Blink."

I made a face at him and slouched down in my seat as Mrs. Olivarde, our class moderator as well as one of our many religion teachers, stepped up to the podium in the front of the room.

"Hey, guys, welcome to Senior Retreat!" she said, smiling broadly. "I hope you're all excited to be here, because I know I am. So, let's stand really quick and get started in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

"Amen," we chorused automatically as we hopped to our feet.

"God, we'd like to take this time to give You thanks for allowing us to blah, blah, blah..." Of course, she didn't actually _say_ the words "blah, blah, blah." That's just what my brain started translating her opening speech into, once I started tuning her out.

I'm not Mrs. Olivarde's biggest fan, so I've gotten to be an expert at ignoring her.

Instead of watching her, I shot a few inconspicuous glances over at Racetrack. He was picking at a developing hole in the left sleeve of his "Boycott Reality Television" shirt and looking generally bored. Not awkward or pensive. Just bored.

I nodded to myself. Okay. Good. He really _wasn't_ dwelling on it like I was. So, it was okay to just forget about it and enjoy retreat. No big deal. Okay.

"... so, let's begin this retreat with an Our Father. Our Father, who art in heaven..."

Automatically, we reached out to join hands with the person next to us, just like we'd done every Sunday for as long as we could remember. Snitch's hand was sort of sticky. I was praying that it was from my suckers that he'd stolen or from the citrus peach juice. Then again, knowing Snitch, you really don't know _where_ his hands have been.

Then, I reached out to take Racetrack's hand, and I totally forgot that Snitch was even _there_.

As soon as our fingers brushed, a kind of a shock ran through me. It wasn't like an _electric_ shock, like I'd grabbed a bare power line or something. No, it was more like... like heat, really. Like I'd grabbed a hot coal or something. Except, instead of burning myself, I kind of _absorbed_ the heat, and it shot all throughout my body.

If that made any sense.

I heard Racetrack breathe in sharply, and he jumped a tiny bit. Then, just for a second, his hand squeezed mine.

I bit my lip. So he'd felt it, too. Or something like it at least.

For the entirety of that prayer, we never looked at each other. Not once. We just concentrated on remembering the words as his hand slowly and steadily tightened around my own.

Then, it was over. We dropped hands and plopped back down like nothing had happened. Racetrack went back to fiddling around with the hole in his sleeve while I stared blankly at the chair in front of me.

"Blink, you okay?" Snitch asked, concerned. "You look like you're about to pass out."

"I'm fine," I replied with a forced smile.

I was lying through my teeth. I didn't exactly know what was building between Racetrack and me, but I did know that whatever it was, we couldn't keep ignoring it for much longer.

-----

After an unnecessarily long introduction from Mrs. Olivarde and Mrs. Miller, another religion teacher, they split us into groups for the "mini-sessions," as they were calling them. Unfortunately, Snitch and Skittery were in a different group; they'd chosen red just before their little break-in. So, we stayed where we were for the "What is Love?" mini-session, while they headed off to one of the smaller rooms upstairs for "Relationships and Commitment."

I'm not going bore you with the details of the mini-sessions, believe me. However, I will proudly state that Racetrack and I paid absolutely no attention to the first three. We spent the "What is Love?" session quietly commenting on Mrs. Olivarde's crooked teeth and her tendency to laugh at her own jokes. The next session, "Rosary Knots," which took place under the supervision of the incredibly awesome Mrs. Brogan, involved attempting, and failing, on my part, to make rosaries by tying knots in a certain way. I sucked majorly; Racetrack rocked at it. He was constantly leaning over to help me with my pathetic excuse for a rosary, and every time his fingers touched mine, a much milder version of the shock I'd gotten during the Our Father swept through me.

By the time we got to "Relationships and Commitment" with the Duprays, which basically consisted of, "don't worry, you'll find the right girl someday," I'd come to a very tentative conclusion. It had gotten to the point where every time Race flashed that grin at me, which was surprisingly often, something low in my stomach would clench and twist around itself a little. Plus, I'd started to study little things that he did, things that I probably wouldn't even have noticed before. Like how he chewed on his lower lip when he was thinking and how he kept tying and untying his shoes when he was bored.

It's possible that I was wrong, but don't you usually do things like that when you... you know, _like_ someone?

I was almost positive you did.

Okay, so maybe I did like Racetrack. That would have been fine, except for the fact that Racetrack was a _boy_. Which meant that I was... _shit_.

Could I really have gone this long without realizing that I was gay? I mean, Nathan Lane didn't come out until he was, like, fifty. But... but I couldn't be gay. There was just no way. It was too...

_Come on, Blink, finish the sentence._

Much to my surprise, I couldn't. What _was_ the big deal about being gay? Some guys liked girls, some guys liked other guys. Did it really matter which one I preferred? I was still me, after all, still the same person that I always was.

I finally decided to just... go with it. I didn't think I could make any decisions about who I was attracted to and who I wasn't. Not yet, anyway. But I _could_ just follow my instincts and let them take over. If they led me to Racetrack, I'd deal with it. If they didn't, that was fine, too.

"Blink, did you die?"

The sound of Racetrack's voice snapped me out of my own little world. I raised an eyebrow when I found myself at the foot of the stairs, directly across the room from the door marked "Meditation."

I gave Racetrack a sheepish smile. "I totally spaced out for a minute. Sorry. God, I don't even remember walking here..."

He let out a soft laugh as he opened the door, and I fought to keep from blushing like a twelve-year-old girl. Together, we headed into the small, dark room.

All the lights had been turned off, and the furniture was pushed to the side. There was just a big empty space and a bunch of bored-looking teenage boys sitting in a big circle on the floor around Mr. Reasin. He grinned at us as we settled down in one of the corners.

"You guys have it easy," Reasin commented, grinning. "You get the Meditation session right before break and dinner."

"Aren't we just the lucky ones?" Racetrack replied with a slight smirk. I grinned and jabbed him in the ribs. He jabbed me back, which evolved into an all-out jabbing war.

Reasin watched us for a minute or two, vaguely amused, then hit the play button on the CD player at his feet. I don't exactly know what was playing, but I've got to admit, it _was_ really relaxing. Probably Enya, or something like that.

"Okay, you guys have done enough meditation sessions to know how this works. Close your eyes."

Obediently, I leaned back against the wall and did as I was told. I heard Race grumble irritably as he tried to shift into a comfortable position, which ended up with him leaning heavily against me.

I smiled slightly as Reasin began to speak.

"You are walking along a beach, completely alone. You are warm and comfortable. Take deep breaths... hold one in.... let it out..."

Of course, after a minute or two, the inevitable occurred: I fell asleep. And I actually had a dream, something that rarely seems to happen any more.

I dreamt that I was sitting in the passenger's seat of a car. It was nighttime, and I was glancing out of the window and watching the highway fly past as I gently scratched behind the ears of a small, black cat on my lap. Racetrack was in the driver's seat, and "No Voice" from _Bare_ was playing.

"Did I ever tell you about my ghost, Aaron?" he asked suddenly.I shook my head. "Nope."

"I was moving, and I got a call from some guy I'd never met before who said his name was Aaron. And I knew he was a ghost. But I don't know how. He asked me if he could get me anything, and I asked for a piano. When I went outside, he'd somehow gotten ahold of this little, toy piano that I'd had when I was a kid. It had been broken for years, but he somehow got it looking like new. So he must be a ghost."

"Wow..." I whispered, continuing to pet the quietly mewling kitten.Then, Reasin's voice echoed suddenly into my dream. Or what was left of it, anyway.

"... your last session, guys. Break for thirty minutes, then dinner. Come on, get up, shake your friends if they've fallen asleep."

I groaned and reluctantly shook myself awake. "What a stupid dream," I muttered to myself.

I suddenly realized that my hand was still moving, like it was still petting the cat from my dream. So, I looked down.

Racetrack was sound asleep with his head in my lap, and I'd been slowly running my fingers through his hair for God knows how long.

I jumped slightly when I realized what I was doing. Not so much because I was freaked out, but because I'd done it totally subconsciously. I hadn't even _realized_ that it was happening.

Race muttered something under his breath and cracked open an eyelid. Then, suddenly, both eyes were wide open and staring up at me, dumfounded.

I swallowed heavily as he gazed up at me, but I couldn't bring myself to move.

"Ahem."

Then, just like before when we were on the bed, everything was gone. We glanced around the room, dazed, and found that we were the only ones left.

And Reasin was watching us, his ever-present, vaguely amused smirk on his face.

"You two had better get going. You've still got a half an hour before dinner, and I'm sure that there's _something_ you want to do."

Then, with a slightly wider grin and a shake of his head, he walked out of the room, humming under his breath.

-----

"Halt, mortals! Before thou mayest enter, thou must produceth thy contribution to the contraband!"

Racetrack and I exchanged glances, then stared at Snitch.

Skittery rolled his eyes. "Just get out the goods."

"Oh!" I snatched my bag and yanked my binder out. "As you all know, I brought my binder of Buffy porn."

Race grinned and pulled a case of cards from his own bag. "I brought cards."

"No shit. Where would you be without at least one deck of cards on you at all times?"

Racetrack shrugged. "You never know when you'll need them. But these aren't ordinary cards," he replied, tossing the deck to Skittery as he spoke.

"... Race, there are naked guys on these ."

"Yes. Yes, there are."

"And _where_ did you get cards like these?"

"France. Where else?"

"Ah. Lovely." Skittery cleared his throat and cheerfully held up a book. "Snitch and I hereby contribute a CD player, mass amounts of CDs, and this book of gay porn entitled _Fratsex_."

"Wow, sucks to be Blink on this retreat, doesn't it? Poor little straight boy."

"Skitts, you _so_ know that Blink is gay."

"Snitch, shut up."

"Hey, it's not my fault that you're in denial!"

"Snitch. _Seriously_. Shut up about it."

Snitch blinked, startled, as one of those uncomfortable, prickly silences descended on the room. I shot a quick glance at Racetrack, who'd suddenly found the dead lovebugs on the windowsill insanely interesting.

Finally, Snitch nodded. "Sorry, dude. I didn't mean to, like... you know, piss you off or anything."

"Yeah. I know." Another silence. "Um... I think I'm gonna head down to dinner a little early. I'll see you guys there, okay?"

I didn't wait for a reply; I just turned and walked out of the room.

I guess that being teased for something doesn't really hurt until you start to consider the fact that it might actually be true.

-----

Dinner passed without any other incidents, though I noticed that Snitch and Skitts were being a little awkward. Racetrack was completely silent, which was _not_ a very good sign. So, I was relatively relieved when we headed back to the conference room.

"I hope you all had a nice dinner!" Mrs. Olivarde said, smiling her crooked smile as the last of our classmates filed into the room. "Now, I'm passing around a hand-out that all of you should take in order to prepare you for Reconciliation."

I fought the urge to slap my forehead. Crap, we were basically expected to go to confession. I'd totally forgotten about that.

"These are just a few questions that you could ask yourself, which should help you think of sins to confess."

I raised my eyebrow as a six-page packet was dropped into my lap.

"_These_ are 'a few sins?'" Racetrack muttered as he flipped through the packet.

"'Have I wasted time at home or at school when I could have been productive?'" Skittery read incredulously. "That's _so_ not a sin!"

"Neither is being gay."

"That's _on_ there?!"

"Third page, near the middle."

Shocked, I flipped quickly through the packet. Sure enough, near the middle of the third page was the question, "have I engaged in homosexual activity (i.e - kissing or inappropriately touching a member of the same sex)?" The question just below that read, "have I experienced inappropriate fantasies involving a member of the same sex?"

"This is such bullshit," Snitch muttered. "I mean, they always told us that being gay was against the bible, or whatever, but it never really hit me until now."

"I don't think I'm fucking _sinning_ by being with someone that I want to be with," Skittery added as he placed his hand protectively over Snitch's.

"You're not," I replied softly. "I mean, sinning is choosing to go against what God wants, right?"

"Right."

"So how can it be a sin when you never _chose_ to do it? You were born that way; it's not something that you can stop."

"That's a really good point..."

"I'm not going to confession."

All other conversation stopped, except for the dull drone of Mrs. Olivarde rambling on in the background, and we all just stared at Racetrack like an alien baby had eaten its way through his chest. Confession during retreat was a _huge_ deal at Jesuit. Everyone did it. They couldn't exactly _force_ us to go, but if you _didn't_ go, the teachers basically coerced the rest of the student body into believing that you physically couldn't confess something that you did because it was just so horribly, disgustingly _wrong_. This usually led to random meetings with your counseler and probably a few well-placed phone calls to your parents, which, in turn, caused a lot of unnecessary stress in your life. So, we just decided to go along with it. I'd never even _heard_ of someone in our class not going to confession.

Skittery asked the obvious question. "Why not?"

Racetrack shrugged. "God didn't say this shit about being gay. _People_ did. There's nothing wrong with being gay. I know it, you know it, God knows it, and that's all that matters. It's not our fault that people suck. But why do we need some random guy to tell God what we did wrong? I mean, he fucks up, too. We all fuck up." He slouched a bit lower in his seat. "I don't need to tell my sins to anybody but God, and I think He understands that."

It made sense, when you really thought about it.

The four of us sat silently as Mrs. Olivarde wrapped up her speech.

"We've got four priests this year, so things should move pretty quickly! Let's get going, boys!"

Almost simultaneously, my entire class got up and headed towards the back doors, chattering noisily. Snitch and Skitts looked at Racetrack, exchanged glances, and followed the herd out the back.

I noticed Racetrack briskly walking towards the side doors that led back to the rooms. So, I followed him.

"Hey, wait up."

He raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you."

He didn't say anything for a few seconds. He just stared at me, like he was studying me or something. Then, he smiled.

"Thanks."

"Excuse me, but where are you two going?"

We both glanced up to find Mrs. Olivarde blocking our exit, her hands on her hips.

"Back to our room. We're not going to confession."

"Why not?"

"Because we're not. Why, are you planning on forcing us?" Race spat.

Her eyes narrowed, but she stepped out of the way without another word.

I felt an impossibly wide smile spread across my face as we stepped outside. The setting sun splashed the trees and the lake with a golden glow; it looked like a picture from a book or something. I immediately felt sorry for the rest of my class. They didn't know what they were missing.

"Hey, Blink, thanks. Really."

I shook my head, still grinning broadly. "What can I say? You had a good point. Besides, I didn't want you to be stuck by yourself."

"I'm happy I've got someone with me. And I'm even happier that... well, that it's you."

I turned to face him, but he kept his gaze trained on the ground as we trekked towards the two-story building.

"Really? Why?"

He glanced quickly at me then, but he only answered me with a shrug and a little smile. "I don't know. I just like being around you."

I had to hide the fact that I was blushing, so it was my turn to stare at the ground. "Thanks, Race. I... um, I like... you know, just-"

He cut me off with a soft laugh. "I know." He raised an eyebrow suddenly. "Hey, look."

I followed his gaze up to the sky. The sun hadn't totally set yet, but the moon had already risen, along with a couple of stars. Instead of being their usual pale selves, the stars and the moon caught the last golden light from the sun and seemed to be tinted with yellows and oranges and mixtures of the two that I'd never seen anywhere else.

"Wow... that's amazing."

Racetrack looked back at me. "Yeah. It is."

We just watched the sky in companionable silence for a minute or two before resuming our walk back to the room.

And it didn't bother me in the slightest when he reached over to lace his fingers through mine.

****

END CHAPTER TWO

My mother is booting me off the computer... but thanks SO much for the reviews, guys! Uber-short shout-outs today; better ones next chapter! I promise!

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Saturday

LOVELOVELOVE! And pleeeease keep reviewing!


	3. The Boy Behind the Patch

Greetings, my dears, and welcome to chapter three of Failing Jesus. -beams- This is the second-to-last chapter, so everything else should be getting updated soon. REJOICE. Ahem. Onward with teh ficcage! -points!-

Disclaimers: All those who don't own _Newsies_, please raise your hand. does so

Warnings: Slash, language, things that could possibly be considered sacrilegious

Failing Jesus

Chapter Three: The Boy Behind the Patch

"Lucyyy, I'm hoooome!" Skittery crowed as the door flew open. I briefly glanced up from my binder, grinned, and turned back to it. I doubt Racetrack even opened his eyes. He was somewhere in the second act of _Bare_, and he was always totally out of it when he listened to that.

Skittery promptly tore of a sheet of his sin packet, made it into an airplane and sailed it into Racetrack's face.

"_Ow_! You little _shit_!"

The lights suddenly began to flick on and off rapidly.

"... Snitch, what are you doing?"

"WHEEE, LIGHTS!"

"You have _so_ many issues."

Race sat up, removed his headphones, and tossed Skittery's paper airplane to the floor. "So, how was confession?"

Snitch snorted and left the lights alone as he plopped down onto the sofa-bed. "It was confession. What else is there to say?"

"That took balls, you guys. _Major_ balls," Skittery said somberly. Race and I grinned at each other. "Seriously. I couldn't have just walked out."

"Well, we didn't exactly just walk out. Olivarde tried to stop us."

Snitch's jaw dropped. "Are you _serious_?!"

"Yeah. She got in our faces with her 'holier than thou' attitude-"

"And Race _completely_ told her off," I added.

"You guys _rock_!" Snitch crowed.

"Hey, is it almost eight-thirty yet?" Skitts wondered out loud. "We have that bonfire thing to go to, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, we do. We should probably get going."

Snitch groaned and stretched out on top of Skittery. "Do we really have to? I just got here!"

"Stop your bitching, wench."

"Yeah. After all, I'm making a speech."

Racetrack raised an eyebrow and sat up, apparently interested. "You're making a speech?"

"Yep," I replied with a grin.

"This I have to see."

Snitch sat up suddenly. He looked at Race, then at me, then at Skittery, then back at me again.

"Um... are you guys flirting with each other?"

Complete silence.

"Snitch, let's go to the bonfire."

"But, Skitts, I think-"

"Snitch. Bonfire. _Now_."

He blinked, shrugged, and got to his feet. Then, he shot a final questioning glance over his shoulder and followed Skittery out the door.

Once the door shut, Racetrack let out a soft laugh and shook his head. Then, he carefully placed his CD player on the floor next to his bed and glanced up, smirking just a little bit.

"So. _Were_ we flirting with each other?"

My breath caught in my throat, and I swear that my heart actually did skip a beat. You hear that expression all the time, but you have no idea how scary it is until it actually happens. It's like your entire body just stops for a second, then randomly remembers how to work itself again.

I fought to keep from choking, but his grin never wavered.

"I... I don't know. _Was_ that flirting?"

"Do you want it to be?"

Quite suddenly, my ability to form actual words totally left me. I sat there and stammered for a good thirty seconds or so while his smile just kept getting bigger. Finally, he spared me further torture and cut me off.

"Don't worry about it, Blink. We'll talk about it later, if you want."

He strolled out of the door, singing that stupid "you make me wanna _lala_" song under his breath. And I just sat there and stared.

-----

"Judging people."

Jack paused for dramatic effect and glanced quickly around the circle of boys. The huge fire at the center raged and popped loudly; it seemed like it was trying to drown us with its heat. I was sitting about three feet away from it, plus I was squished in between Racetrack and Skittery, so I was sweating like crazy. But, for some reason, I barely even noticed the heat.

"We all judge people. We do it without even realizing it. The second we see somebody, we stereotype them and put them in a certain group before they've even spoken." I'd never realized what a good speaker Jack was. Probably because he was always joking. But, this time, he was serious. Dead serious.

Jack's voice softened a little bit, but it still managed to carry through the night air. Somehow, I knew it reached every single boy around that fire. "I don't think we ever really notice how much we hurt people when we judge them right off the bat. So, we've asked a couple guys to talk about their own experiences tonight. Some of these guys might be your best friends. They might be your physics partner. Or, maybe, you don't even know who they are. But they all have something in common. They're your classmates, and they know exactly what it's like to be judged." He smiled a little bit, nodded, and started to tell his own story.

He talked about being referred to as "the kid whose dad killed his mom." Then, Swifty got up and started talking about being the only Asian guy at an all-white grammar school.

Then, it was my turn. Swallowing nervously, I got to my feet and stood near the front of the fire.

"Um, for those of you who don't know me, hi, I'm Isaac. But those of you who do know me probably know me as Blink, for obvious reasons." I forced a tiny smile and tapped my eye patch. "'Blink' has really become a term of endearment over the past couple of years, but it wasn't always that way. Most of you probably don't know this, but by the time I hit seventh grade, I'd switched school nine times." I quickly glanced at my friends' faces. They stared back at me, identical expressions of absolute shock written across their faces. Nope, the definitely hadn't known. "I switched schools so much because, to the kids at my old schools, 'Blink' wasn't just a nickname. It was this horrible, unavoidable label that I got plastered across my forehead the second I walked in the school. No one ever took the time to talk to me, because I'd automatically been labeled as 'that one-eyed weirdo.' Nobody knew _anything_ about me. They just didn't care. I wasn't like them, and why _should_ they care about me if I wasn't like them?"

I sighed and stared into the fire, trying to speak past the lump steadily growing in my throat.

"Go, Blink!"

"You rock, dude!"

I couldn't help but smile a little as the random support flew out of the crowd. Swallowing thickly, I continued. "They didn't know why I wore this patch. They all just sort of _assumed_ that I was disgustingly disfigured, and I wore it so I wouldn't sicken anyone who had the misfortune of speaking to me." My laugh was quiet, bitter. "I don't even know if they realized it, but the second that those 'normal' kids saw me, they had me pegged as dangerous or weird or, my personal favorite, _deformed_. So, they made up all kinds of stories about why I wore the patch. My mother went insane and burned our house down, and I got stabbed through the eye with a burning piece of wood. My father cut my eye out one night in a drunken rage. I tried to commit suicide by gouging it out myself. All sorts of great stories, each one more gross and outrageous and _hurtful_ than the others. But not a single person, not _one_, knew the real story."

I paused just like Jack had, though I did it to gather up the little courage that I had left, not to build the suspense. Finally, I closed my eyes, slipped my thumb beneath the patch, and slid it off.

A few surprised gasps spread from my classmates as they saw the perfectly normal, untwisted area around my left eye for the first time.

"I was born blind in my left eye. That's all. No glitz, no glamour... just that."

Even the sound of a flaming log breaking off and falling to the dirt floor didn't cause my classmates' intent, shocked eyes to look away.

"So. Do I look _different_ to you? Do I look _ugly_ or _distorted_ or _wrong_? So I can't see out of my left eye. Oh, well, that's life. I still play games and do homework and complain about my parents, just like every other teenager. I laugh and cry and get in fights and do everything that you can do. And you guys know that." I'd expected to be crying by this point, but all I felt was a blank sort of emptiness. So, I let out another small, bitter smile. "The kids at my other schools didn't." Slowly, I reached up to put my patch back on. But, I stopped. I don't know why I did it, but I slipped it into my pocket instead.

Quickly, I glanced over at my friends. Snitch was literally sobbing into Skittery's shoulder. Skitts was looking at the ground, hiding his face, but I could see the light catching off of his own stream of tears as he wrapped his arms around Snitch and whispered in his ear. And Racetrack's face was completely and totally blank. Absolutely impassive.

But his eyes were shining with what looked a lot like tears to me.

"You know that old proverb 'you can't judge a book by its cover?' Of course you do. We've all heard it a hundred thousand times, and we're all sick of it by now. But there's a reason why it's stuck around as long as it has. It's _true_. People aren't always what they seem to be. Girls with purple hair and nose rings and pitch-black clothes can listen to show tunes. The kid you see in the hallway who's always smiling might go home, let the smile drop, then grab a knife and add another gash to his arm. You just never know. Everybody has their own patch, their own outer covering that hides what's really there. So, next time you see someone that's not just like you... think about what might be under _their_ patch before you make a decision on what they're like."

A deafening silence filled the air as I stepped over people's legs to make my way back towards my friends.

"A 'thank you' doesn't seem to really cover what you deserve for giving that speech, Blink," Jack said quietly. I just flashed him a sad smile and squeezed back in between Skittery and Race.

"Blink... Blink, that was incredible," Skittery whispered, scrubbing at his eyes with one hand while he gently rubbed Snitch's back with the other. Snitch was still crying too hard to say anything.

I froze when I felt a pair of arms circle my waist. A split second later, Racetrack's lips ghosted across my ear.

"Don't _ever_ let _anyone_ tell you that you're a freak, because you're not. You are the most amazing person I have ever. Fucking. _Met_."

I finally gave up and totally lost it. With a choked sob, I leaned forward and buried my face in my hands, feeling nothing but my own tears soaking my hands and Racetrack's fingers slowly and steadily brushing up and down my back.

-----

Racetrack looked up from my binder of porn as I walked out of the bathroom, still scrubbing at my damp hair.

"Hey."

I smiled sheepishly. "Hey."

"You've been in there for a long time. It's almost eleven-thirty."

"I know. I think a lot when I'm in the shower, which leads to me taking really, really long showers."

"Yeah, you've been in there for over an hour. And you were _singing_ while I was _trying_ to read this Tara/Willow!"

I laughed quietly and shrugged. "Sorry about that. Where are Snitch and Skitts?"  
"They went for a walk in the woods. Snitch couldn't stop crying."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

He closed the binder. "Blink, that was an _amazing_ speech. He just feels like shit. All of us do, I think. Snitch is just taking it harder than the rest of us."

"Why would you feel like shit?"

He shrugged. "Well, I think at some point in time, we all really... you know, wondered what was up with your eye. And I think we all might have made up some stories of our own. But none of us took the time to ask."

I half-smiled. "That's different, Race. You guys are my friends. You took the time to get to know me. _They_ didn't."

"Well, _they_ didn't deserve to have you as a friend."

We just looked at each other for a minute or two. For some reason, during that one minute, I felt... _different_. I felt like I could sit with Racetrack and say whatever I wanted, or not say anything at all, and everything would still be fine. I can't really explain it. It was just a feeling of everything in the entire world just being _right_.

Then, I smiled. A real, actual, genuine smile.

"I'm getting a little tired. I mean, we have to wake up early tomorrow, and we woke up early today... so I think I'm gonna turn in."

Racetrack nodded. "Yeah, me, too. Skittery and Snitch will come back when they're ready."

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"So... goodnight."

Race grinned as I pulled the sheets up around me. "'Night, Blink. And, just so you know... I meant what I said at the bonfire."

"I know."

"Good."

I reached up to turn the lamp off, and we left it at that.

-----

I'd been so proud of myself for getting to bed early. Unfortunately, I woke up a bit later the... _unsettling_ sounds coming from the sofa-bed totally destroyed any chance that I might have had of getting back to sleep.

Snitch and Skittery had come back from the woods. Great.

And, although I couldn't see very well, it didn't look like they had a whole lot of clothes on. Even better.

A quick glance at the clock informed me that it was one-thirty. I sighed, pulled on my Chucks as fast as I could, and then headed out the door that led to the balcony.

I'd been on the bottom floor last year, so I hadn't spent any time on the balcony. But I'd been pleasantly surprised to find that each of the upper bedrooms at the Center had a balcony that overlooked the trees and the lake. It seemed to be the perfect spot for just collecting your thoughts or relaxing.

Or the perfect place to go when your roommates _won't stop having sex_.

I shut the door behind me and looked out across the lake, watching the faint moonlight filter through the trees.

"You, too, huh?"

Racetrack grinned as I turned to look at him. He was sitting calmly at a tiny table near the edge of the balcony, and his deck of French cards was spread out in front of him. He stuck the pen light that he was holding in his mouth, pointed it at the cards, and then began to shuffle.

I smiled. "Yeah. They're so damn loud."

"Believe me, I know," he muttered from around the pen light, rolling his eyes.

"You know, I _was_ wondering if people had sex in those beds."

Race laughed as best as he could without dropping the light. "Well, now you know."

"I wish I didn't."

I heard nothing for the next five minutes except for the quiet sounds of Race shuffling and dealing and flipping cards around. I was perfectly happy leaning against the railing and just watching everything. It was beautiful and peaceful and didn't involve the sounds of Snitch and Skitts having sex, which was a major plus.

Then, I heard a soft "click," which I assumed was the sound of Racetrack flicking off his pen light. His chair scraped noisily against the balcony's old, faded floor, and his footsteps gave off a hollow echo. With a soft sigh, he leaned against the banister directly next to me.

"You know," he muttered quietly, "you never did answer the question."

I turned to look at him, confused. "What question?"

"When Snitch wanted to know if we were hitting on each other."

I felt myself blush slightly. "Oh... um..."

He snickered. "Always articulate, huh, Blink?"

"Very funny. And, you know, you didn't answer, either."

He shrugged, still smirking. "I wanted to see what you'd say. I already knew what my answer was."

"And what _was_ your answer?"

He turned his attention away from the lake and looked back at me. "Are you really that dense? Of _course_ I was hitting on you."

Okay, definitely blushing like a prepubescent girl. "Oh..."

He laughed. "I've had a crush on you since sophomore year, you moron."

"Are you _serious_? Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"

"Because I didn't think anything would come from it, and I didn't want to freak out a straight boy. But, from the way things are going..." He trailed off as his eyes drilled into me. "... I don't really know if you're straight any more."

I stared at him for a second, then sighed and leaned forward to rest my head on the railing. "I don't know, either, Race. I really don't."

"You weren't acting like a straight guy after we pissed off Olivarde."

"I know."

"And even if you aren't, who really cares?"

"Racetrack..."

"So, are you, or aren't you?"

"I don't _know_."

"Oh, come on, how can you-"

"God _dammit_, Race, _I don't know_!" He stopped in mid-sentence, surprised. "I mean... okay, yesterday or earlier today or whatever, I was _straight_. I was totally and utterly _straight_. And then I get here, and I actually start paying attention to you and the shit you do, and suddenly... I don't know! I see you in, like, this completely different light, and everything is just _different_!"

"Not everything."

"Well, a lot of shit. And so, I... Race, I don't know. I just don't _know_ what I am."

Racetrack was absolutely silent. I ran my fingers through my hair and stared at the floor, the beginnings of a massive headache working through my head.

Then, he cleared his throat. "There's a way that you could find out."

I froze briefly, then turned to face him. "What do you mean?"

He didn't say anything for a second. Then, before I could move, before I could _think_, he'd closed the distance between us, grabbed me by the shoulders, and firmly pressed his lips against mine.

Did I mention that I'd never been kissed before? Because, yeah, I definitely hadn't.

I stood there, wide-eyed, and let him kiss me, because I honestly didn't know what else to do. I gripped the edge of the railing with one hand while the other hung helplessly at my side.

_What do I _do_? Am I supposed to kiss him back, or push him away or... or what? I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do!_

And that's when it hit me.

The question really wasn't, "what am I supposed to do?" It was, "what do I _want_ to do?" And at that second, it was reasonably easy to figure out what I wanted to do.

So, I relaxed and let myself kiss him back.

That must have caught him totally off guard, because he actually paused for a second. Just for a second, mind you. Almost immediately, I felt him kiss me again, hungrily, his hands roaming across my back. I stepped backwards tentatively until I felt the banister press into me. The wood digging into my back probably would have been uncomfortable in any other situation, but at that moment, I was too busy concentrating on the feeling of Racetrack's lips moving against my own to worry about that.

I let out a tiny, involuntary whimper when he slowly and persistently began to run the tip of his tongue over my bottom lip. I gasped quietly, then fought the urge to whimper again as Race slid his tongue into my mouth. From that point on, I tried to keep myself upright with my white-knuckled grip on the railing, since my suddenly-shaking legs weren't doing me much good. Awkwardly, I began to mimic his actions. He didn't seem to care that I was probably the crappiest kisser in the world. Hell, at that point, _I_ didn't even care. All that mattered, all that I could even possibly begin to think about, was Racetrack.

I don't know how long we kept it up, and I really didn't care. I was slightly disappointed when Racetrack finally pulled away slightly and rested his forehead against mine.

"I've wanted to do that since I was fifteen," he panted, smiling slightly.

Laughing softly, I pulled away a bit more and looked him in the eye. "So... what happens now?"

He shrugged. "Whatever you want. It's up to you."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. I'm not looking for any decisions tonight. Do you really think I'd expect you to completely change your sexuality because of one kiss?"

"That was actually a couple of kisses."

"Well, true... but still!" he said, laughing. "Still, I wouldn't expect you to change everything overnight. Take some time, think everything over. Okay?"

I nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Okay, then." He grinned, then glanced back towards the door. "I think they're finished. Want to try and get some sleep?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

He flashed me one last smirk, then reached up and calmly tugged me down into a much softer, gentler kiss.

"Good night," he whispered.

"'Night," I replied.

We walked back inside without another word. Sure enough, Snitch and Skittery were sound asleep, wrapped and tangled around one another. Racetrack flipped the lamp off, and I reached up to take off my patch.

My eyes widened when I realized that it had been off the entire time.

I glanced over at Race as he pulled the blanket up almost to his chin. Then, I flicked off the other lamp and sank down into my own bed, a slow smile spreading across my face.

END CHAPTER THREE

Woo, I threw some SYMBOLISM in there! And I'm actually updating this fic on a regular basis! EXCITEMENT! Too bad there's only one chapter left. XDDD Anywho! As I promised, actual shout-outs this time! YAY!

Artemis: Ahaha! Well, I _am_ a Catholic, but I don't believe in a lot of the Church's opinions. Race's opinion on confession is actually my opinion, too. If I ever wanted to confess my sins, I'd confess them to God, and nobody else. Like they say in _Bare_, "our shit's not the priest's business!" Thank you so much, hon! XD Thanks for the review!

Mondie: Pfft, I love you more because YOU TOUCHED ANDREW. -hyperventilates- Well, and because you're the best Mush ever. -high fives!- DONNELLY LYK WO, OH EM GEE! -love-

Colleeneh-beanizzle: "Forget about Trey, where's my fuckin' chair?!" "I got your fuckin' chair, bitch! Why don't you come get it? Stupid fuckin' heavy thing!" Ahahaha, it seemed appropriate to start off your shout-out with that. Mwaha. Dude, you have a Blinktrack Love dance?! I wanna see! And, no, MCA really isn't that strict about confession. You go if you want to, you don't if you don't feel like it, and no one really cares. I just thought it was better this way. Aha. Anyway. LOVE.

Braids: Aw, thanks! -beams- Ack, I know the horrors of being booted, as you can see from my lack of shout-outs last chapter. -sweatdrop- But thanks so much for reviewing!

Twitch: I actually had that dream, you know. Except it was my mom telling me about her ghost, Aaron, and we were at this random college instead of a car. And I didn't have a cat. And, yes, they go to Jesuit. -beams- -ish smacked- Owiiie... okay, okay, love! -pouts- -secretly loves like whoa-

RunawayBurleigh: Squee, thanks so much! -dances merrily- I had a lot of fun writing the pet-age. -giggles!- Glad you liked it, and thanks for el review-o!

Aura: Dude, that is beyond awesome! No protesters?! -has a fiesta!- That _rocks_! Anyway, dearie, thanks so much for the review! -giggles and gives cookies!-

Yolanda Pronounced Stacy: -squeals and tackles- Snitch is always cute to you. Aha. Remind me to send you my senior picture where I look like sex. INSANE LOVE! -tacklesnogs!-

Ele: Are you serious? -squeals merrily- Thank yoooou! -giggles and dances- Well, here you go, an update! -beams-

Ellen: "I can't eat that, I've already had a Pop-Tart." "You fucking glutinous bitch." Ahaha, I love you. And your Blood Drips tape is being taken care of. It's resting in its shrine right now. Well, not so much holding hands in this part, but lots of SNOGGING. See you tomorrow, kid. ... wait a minute, I just realized that the words "you're bi" were not uttered ONCE in this review. -parties!-

Buttons: Ahahahaha! They're so much fun to screw around with, aren't they? Hmmmm... nah, probably not. -shrugs- Ah, well. Thanks for reviewing! -beams-

Liz: Really? Why, thank you! -teh proud!- And, yeah, I like Racetrack's opinion on being gay. -beams- Race is rather smart, when you get right down to it. Tankies for the reviewage!

Saturday: Oh, my God, Lute obsesses over you constantly, and I didn't get the chance last time to tell you this, but YOU ARE AWESOME. I never review anything that anyone writes because my computer doesn't let me because it SUCKS, but I read "AOL 9.0" and "East Side Story," and you are a COMEDY/WEIRD PAIRING GENIUS. Seriously. Much love. -tackles!-

Dreamer: -giggles wildly- Thank you very much! -dances around- Blinktrack _is_ adorable; I don't know why more people don't write it. -pouts- Oh, the "Moses of bugs" line? Yeah, I actually said that. -sweatdrop- -giggles- Anywho, thanks a bundle for the review!

Omni: -beats the shiznit out of FFN- -snuzzles- I love you even more now! Because your review was martyred! -sobs!- I LOVE YOU LIKE WHOA! -clings to teh Omni- Ahem. Looove. -beams-

Rumor (x2): -dies laughing- It seemed a lot funnier when me and my friends were doing it with my binder of _Newsies_ porn. This was funny, too, but I guess you sort of had to be there to get the "pee in your pants" effect. -giggles- Much love, dearie!

Sapphy (x2): ... oh, man, there are no words. I just _adore_ you! -dies laughing- You have the most random reviews! -resurrects to continue the shout-out- Anywho, honeybun, you know I lurve you! -glomps!-

Avikins: AVI-MILLIE-MARY-RACETRACK, I love you. XD I'm so upset about Ebb! -cries- My mom was all upset, too. Ah, well. -shrugs helplessly- But, anywho, I LOVE you, and I'll see you tomorrow, and I can't believe you're almost finished with your apartment project! -hatelove!-

That's all the shout-outs for this time! The next chapter will be the last, and it should be up relatively soon. Until then, keep reading, keep reviewing, and, above all, this is most important, DON'T DROP THE SOAP AROUND UNCLE PHIL! (/Blood Drips) -dashes off to eat Wendy's-


	4. The Jury Has Reached a Verdict

Here it is, kids, last chapter. -beams- Sorry this took so long to get out. For those of you who don't know, I live in Louisiana, and my parents and I evacuated, so I had no computer. BUT! School is canceled until Monday, so I have time to work on it! YAY! Next will probably be Snittery pr0n for Lute, since I owe it to her, followed by another one-shot that I've been working on, followed by Angelsight. Standing Ovation is on hold until I retrieve my profiles, since the NJL forum where they were being held has died (p.s: Rachelily and B, I really only need profiles from Kay and Blunder. I know that Kay was totally made up on the spot, but I'm hoping you still have Blunder, B). Moving on!

Disclaimers: "I've got your fuckin' _Newsies_, bitch! Why don't you come find it? Stupid fuckin' heavy thing!" (/Blood Drips) Ahem. Sita does not own _Newsies_. -cheesy smile-

Warnings: Language, slash

Failing Jesus

Chapter Four: The Jury Has Reached a Verdict

"Wakey, wakey!"

I woke up abruptly when Snitch chucked a half-eaten Pop-Tart at my head.

"Ow! Snitch, you _freak_!"

"Quiet, you love me. It's seven-thirty! Time to get up for breakfast!"

"I've still got a half an hour! Fuck off!"

"I suddenly have a craving for funnel cake... and why is the sun up?" Skittery mumbled irritably. He struggled into a sitting position and blinked sleepily. "There should be less sun and more funnel cake."

"Cornflakes will have to do. Come on, let's go, let's go, let's _go_!" I yawned, reluctantly rolled out of bed, and began to pull on a pair of jeans and _Goonies_ T-shirt.

"How is it that you're so freakin' hyper?"

"I ate four packs of Kit-Kats last night. Come _on_, you guys!" Snitch bounced around the room, beaming at Skitts and me.

"We can't go yet," Skittery muttered, yawning. "Race is in the shower."

Suddenly, without warning, the memory of what had happened last night washed over me like a tidal wave.

Racetrack had kissed me. More importantly, I'd kissed him back.

Well. I definitely never thought my first kiss would be on retreat. Then again, I never thought it would be with a boy, either.

Okay, calm down. No need to panic. After all, he said he'd give me time to think about everything. Good. I _needed_ that time.

God, everything had seemed so much simpler last night. Last night, my entire world had been narrowed down to, "he's kissing me. I like it. Okay." But everything had changed. All of a sudden, I found myself wondering what my parents would think, what my other friends would think, what _God_ would think. I mean, I know I said all that shit about people making up this crap about being gay, but I'd just been talking out of my ass. It's a lot easier to say stuff like that when it doesn't apply to you.

Who was I to say what God had said and didn't say? I may not be the best Catholic in the world, but I _do_ believe in God, and I think He's a pretty good guy. So I don't want to screw around with Him too much. I don't want to... I don't know, fail Jesus or anything.

But I mean... I'd _liked_ it. It felt _right_. And not just the kissing part, either. Just talking with him, being around him, cracking moronic jokes with him, _everything_ I did with him just seemed so completely unconstrained. I didn't feel like I had to force myself to act a certain way around him.

But still...

I hadn't even noticed that Snitch and Skittery were staring at me until the bathroom door flew open. I blinked, collapsed back into the real world, and glanced up to see the identical confused, slightly worried looks on their faces. Racetrack, oblivious to the temporary vacation that my brain had taken, sauntered out of the bathroom in a pair of baggy jeans and an "I Race Lawn Mowers" T-shirt, still scrubbing at his damp hair with a towel.

"Morning, freaks," he said cheerfully as he tossed the towel carelessly back into the bathroom. He glanced over at me and flashed me a grin, which I half-heartedly returned. Race raised an eyebrow. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Um... I'm going to breakfast. See you guys there."

"Well, do you want me to walk with you?"

"Uh... no, really, you don't have to."

I walked outside as quickly as I could, but I still saw his face fall.

And I felt like an absolute, complete, and total _shithead_.

-----

Breakfast passed just as awkwardly as dinner had. I could _feel_ Racetrack staring at me from across the table, but I didn't look at him. I _couldn't_. I didn't exactly know what I'd see if I met his eyes, but I figured that it would probably be a combination of confusion, hurt, and anger, none of which I was particularly good at dealing with.

So I focused on my miniature box of Cornflakes and my under-cooked eggs while Snitch and Skittery exchanged glances and tried to force small talk.

Mass wasn't much better. Despite Snitch's best efforts to cheer me up ("look!" he yelled as he swatted at a lovebug with his retreat program. "It's bug baseball!"), I trudged towards the tiny, open-air chapel with my eyes trained on the floor. Race walked a few feet to the right of me, his hands shoved in his pockets. He was making an effort to look anywhere except at me, but I could feel him watching me every now and then.

I stared straight at the priest for the entire hour that I was in the chapel. It was like I had blinders on either side of my head. I didn't want to look at Racetrack, because I didn't want to deal with all of the crap that was swishing around my brain. But, I didn't want to look at Skittery and Snitch either, because I knew that they'd both flash me their patented "tell me what the hell is going on _now_, bitch" looks. So, I stared straight ahead.

I made up some bullshit excuse about being overheated to get outside right before the Our Father.

I was planning on hiding out in the snack room during the hour break that we had in between mass and lunch, but Skittery found me in the bathroom. And when I say, "found me," I mean he dragged me out of the snack room by my sleeve, pushed me into the bathroom, and then locked the door.

"You and Race. What the hell is going on?"

I stared at him for a few seconds, then sighed and rested my head against one of the stall doors.

"You know, in retrospect, this is _you_r fault," I muttered.

"How can any of this be my fault when I don't know what's going on?!"

"If you and Snitch hadn't been _fucking_ last night-"

"Hey, we didn't _fuck_! We just... gave each other blowjobs..."

"... fine. If you and Snitch hadn't been _blowing each other_ last night, I wouldn't have had to go outside, and Race wouldn't have been there, and he wouldn't have kissed me, and I wouldn't-"

"RACE KISSED YOU?!"

"Let's scream it a little louder, why don't we?"

"_RACE KISSED YOU?!_"

"You stupid _fuck_, shut up!"

Skittery stared at me, wide-eyed. I think he tried to say something for a few seconds, but all that came out were a few random, squeaky noises, and those didn't really count.

Finally, he managed actual words.

"But... you're _straight_!"

I sighed. "I thought I was."

"Well... did you, you know, like it?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Blink, my friend, when you make out with boys and like it, I think that classifies you as a true, blue homo."

"You are _so_ not helping."

Skittery shrugged. "Sorry. But if you liked it, why are you avoiding him? He's really upset."

I plopped down onto the cold, blue, tile floor and sighed again, trying to ignore the beginnings of an insane headache. "I know, Skitts. But, like... I just don't know if I can do this."

"Do what?"

"Be gay."

Skittery laughed and shook his head. "Blink, I know from personal experience that you don't exactly have a say in the matter. If you're gay, you're gay, and there's not a damn thing that you can do about it. You think I woke up one day and decided, 'hm, I'm gonna like boys instead of girls! Yeah, that'll make my life _much_ easier!'"

"Yeah, but you found Snitch."

He gave me a discerning grin. "And how do you know that Race won't end up being to you what Snitch is to me?"

I didn't really have anything to say to that.

Skittery watched me for a few seconds, then nodded to himself. "Just think about it for a while, Blink. Don't think about what your parents and teachers and friends will say. Think about what will make you happy. Follow your feelings, not your head. Ooh, like that line in 'The Schmuel Song!'"

"The what?"

"'The Schmuel Song' from _Last Five Years_. 'Maybe it's just that you're afraid to go out onto a limb-avitch. Maybe your heart's completely swayed, but your head can't follow through.'"

"... 'limb-avitch?'"

"Shut up, it had to rhyme with Klimavitch. But think about it, Blink."

I nodded. "I will, Skitts."

"Good."

He shot me one last grin before unlocking the door and heading outside, leaving me on the cold floor of the bathroom with nothing but thoughts that I wish I didn't have.

-----

At lunch, we grabbed all the chicken nuggets that our plates could hold and claimed the only outdoor table. The large table sat underneath an awning directly next to the woods, plus it had a great view of the lake. And, to top it all off, the weather was a little bit cooler, so there weren't as many lovebugs. Very nice. Very peaceful.

I sat next to Race and did my best to just talk to him like nothing had happened. Yeah, that worked. _Not_. Everything I said involved "um" and "yeah" and "erm" and "you know." I definitely wasn't the most eloquent person at the table.

Race just smiled, nodded, and poked at his chicken nuggets. Most people wouldn't even have noticed that there was anything wrong, but I knew better. His smiles never reached his eyes, and he barely made any smart-aleck remarks when the topic turned to Mrs. Olivarde's teaching methods, or lack thereof.

All in all, lunch _sucked_.

And, to top it all off, it started to rain. _Hard_,

Well, in actuality, the rain was kind of nice. It drummed a peaceful pattern on top of the awning, the whole Center just felt cleaner, and the scenery seemed even more gorgeous with the rain streaming down around it.

"It's raaaaaining, it's pooooouring, the old man is snooooring," Skittery sang merrily. "He went to- GO AWAY!" he screeched suddenly at a lovebug that had appeared in front of his face. "Ahem. He went to beeed and bumped his-"

"Will you shut your penis holder?!" Snitch yelled over the rain. They cracked up; Racetrack and I forced small laughs. God, what _bullshit_. Why couldn't everything just go back to the way it was before all this crap?

"I'm gonna go get us some umbrellas before they're all gone," Skittery said, hopping to his feet. He pulled open the glass doors and walked back inside towards Mrs. Miller, who was handing out blue and white striped umbrellas. I sighed and immersed myself in making shapes out of my ketchup blobs so I wouldn't make an even bigger fool of myself by trying to make everything with Race okay again.

Skittery headed back outside a minute or so later with two of the large umbrellas.

"Sorry, I could only get two."

"Skitts, you had to have been able to-"

"I could _only_ get _two_," he repeated, obviously fighting a smile. "Well, guess you guys will have to share. Come on, Snitch."

"But, Skitts, they still have umbr-"

"Let's _go_, Snitch!"

And they disappeared into the rain.

That _bastard_.

I glared in his general direction until Racetrack quietly cleared his throat. He gave me a small smile and pushed the umbrella open.

"You ready?"

"Yeah."

I took the umbrella, since I was taller, and we trudged out into the rain. Occasionally, we bumped arms or legs, but when we did, neither of us said anything about it.

Then, we got to the path that led to the conference room. Or, the small pond that had accumulated over it, anyway.

"Dammit," Race muttered. "We'll have to go the long way." I shrugged and nodded as we started towards the "scenic route," as Mrs. Olivarde called it, which wound around the woods, dipped into them occasionally, and took about fifteen minutes to walk through on a good day. We were looking at more like a half an hour.

God _dammit_.

I was on a hair-trigger; every nerve ending in my skin felt like it was standing up, reacting to the annoyingly prickly tension that had popped up between us. He didn't say anything, though. Not about the weather or about the retreat itself or anything at all, really. Definitely nothing about the night before.

So, I relaxed after about ten minutes.

"Blink, I really need to talk to you."

Dammit.

He continued to walk as he spoke, but he was focused on me. "I know you know what I want to talk about."

"Yeah, I do."

"Last night... was that a mistake?"

I sighed and stared at the ground. "I don't know, Race."

"Don't give me that bullshit. You _do_ know, you just don't want to tell me." The bitterness in his voice shocked me. "Look, I said I'd give you time to think about it. You obviously thought about it, and you've obviously come to a decision." I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. "Whether or not you realize it, you _do_ know how you feel. I can tell." He stopped walking and stared steadily at me as the wind whipped around us. "If last night was a total mistake and you're straight, then fine. I can deal with that. If you never want to speak to me again, that'll take a little more time for me to get used to, but I can deal with that, too. But I _can't_ deal with this constant state of not knowing what the hell is going on. So just tell me what the fuck you want to do."

I stayed completely silent for a second or two, then started trying to explain myself, which ended up being a repeat of lunch. I finally let out a groan, and leaned against a tree as I dropped the umbrella. I noticed that the wind carried it somewhere over the lake, but I didn't care. I didn't care that we were both getting drenched, either. Right then, I really didn't care about anything.

"Racetrack, last night was-"

"A mistake."

"No."

"A nightmare."

"_No_."

"The worst day of your life."

"Will you let me fucking _talk_?!" I spat. He shut up and settled for just standing there as the rain plastered his unruly hair to his head. "Race, last night was... I don't know what it was. But I have _never_ felt like that before. Not with anyone."

He blinked. "Was this a good feeling or a bad feeling?"

"Good. Very, _very_ good."

Race actually looked surprised for a second. Then, his whole face just seemed to _melt_ with relief.

"If you liked it, then what's the problem?"

"That's just it! I don't _know_!"

But then, Skittery's stupid, weird-rhyming lyric came flying out of the abyss.

_"Maybe it's just that you're afraid to go out onto a limb-avitch. Maybe your heart's completely swayed, but your head can't follow through."_

And, suddenly, I _did_ know.

"I'm... I'm _scared_, Race. I'm really fucking scared."

He frowned and cocked his head to the side. "Scared of _what_?"

I gestured haphazardly, spraying raindrops everywhere as I moved. "I'm scared of changing so drastically. I'm scared because I know that if I take this one last step, I can't go back. _Ever_. It's like jumping off of the high dive and hoping that nobody drained the pool. I'm scared of..." I paused briefly, then swallowed and went on. "I'm scared of falling for another guy."

Racetrack didn't say anything. He just looked at me. So, I watched the rain stream down his face and waited.

Then, he smiled. "I used to be scared, too."

I blinked. Definitely hadn't been expecting that.

"Sophomore year, I felt like there was something _wrong_ with me. So, I didn't tell anyone. Then, Skitts ended up in my Psychology class, and we got to be friends, and he told me that Snitch was his boyfriend... and I felt pretty much okay from then on out. I mean, I was still paranoid and shit, but once you find out you're in the same boat as your friends, everything seems a little bit better."

I just stared at him for a minute or two, trying to think up a response. Unfortunately, all I could do was stare at him, helplessly.

He chewed on his lip thoughtfully, then tossed a rain-soaked lock of hair out of his eyes. Finally, he continued. "I really don't know what I'm trying to get at here. I guess what I'm trying to say is that if this is something that you're ready to accept, something that you're ready to deal with... I'm here. And so are Snitch and Skitts."

I felt myself smiling. "I know. And I think... I think I'm ready. At least, I _hope_ I'm ready. I'm gonna try, at the very least."

He smiled back and stepped into me. "I was hoping you'd say that." A sudden flash of lightning lit up his eyes, briefly turning them gold, and I suddenly became very, very aware of how close he was to me.

I swallowed quickly as he moved closer, and I leaned back against the tree. Slowly, he reached up and brushed his thumb across my cheek, my lips, and I felt that now-familiar _twist_ in my stomach.

"Race," I whispered through the rain, "I've never-"

"I know. It's all right."

"I don't know how-"

"That's okay." He smiled slightly as he leaned in, and I felt his lips hover over mine. "I do."

And then, he was kissing me.

I froze momentarily. But then his hand slid from my face to my neck to my back, and I slowly relaxed into him. He smiled; I could feel it against my lips. But the smile disappeared a split second later when he started to nip gently at my bottom lip. Without even realizing what I was doing, I placed my hand on the back of his neck and buried my fingers in his hair.

Race inhaled sharply. Then, his tongue darted forward, snaking its way into my mouth. I finally gave up and let out the moan that had been threatening to escape. His hand slipped under my soaked shirt, and I shivered as his cold fingers danced across my skin.

I'd suddenly forgotten the staples of the English language, so I don't think I said any actual words after that point. Lots of choked gasps and a few involuntary moans, but no words. Then again, even if I'd had the ability to speak, I wouldn't have been able to think of anything to say. I don't think the right words to explain such a dizzying, out-of-control, breathless moment even existed.

We broke apart a minute or two later.

"Shit," I breathed as Racetrack slowly traced the outside of my ear with his tongue. "_Shit_," I repeated, digging my fingernails into the tree trunk as he kissed and licked and nibbled his way down my neck. I could hear him panting, feel the heat from his breath puff against my neck.

Then, he brushed his fingers against the crotch of my jeans, and I nearly cracked my head on the tree.

At that point, I was so caught up in the moment that I would have fucked him right there, no questions asked. And I actually half-wished that it _would_ happen.

But he stopped.

He stopped, pulled back slightly, and shook his head. It looked like it took a lot for him to do it, but he stopped anyway.

"You're just starting to get used to being gay," he muttered after a short pause. "I'm not pushing you into something that you're not ready for."

I watched him watch me, then answered him with a smile and a nod.

He smiled back and kissed me again, gently. "Come on. We're gonna get sick if we don't get back."

"Yeah. Let's go."

He grabbed me by the hand, and we ran along the path together, laughing in the rain. We were soaked through and through, and I should have been freezing. But, I barely even felt the rain, and somehow, I felt warm, all the way down to the tips of my toes.

-----

The rest of retreat passed without a hitch. We finished up with a little activity that involved taking a stack of large, purple, construction paper hearts. Mrs. Olivarde explained that she would read from a paper, and we would give a heart or a piece of a heart to someone that the sentence described. For instance, we had to give the heart to someone who inspired us on retreat or someone that we wanted to know better.

When she finally read, "give your heart to someone who helped you discover something about yourself," I didn't even have to think about it. I just turned and immediately gave my heart to Racetrack. And he gave me his, too.

We ended retreat by standing in a huge circle with our arms around each other and singing our class song: "In My Life," by the Beatles. It's an amazing song. It's even more amazing when sung by a couple of hundred boys who are just happy being with their friends, who don't care if they're off-key or if they don't know all the words.

Then, we packed our shit onto the buses and settled in for the trip home.

"What is _that_?" Snitch asked suddenly as we settled into our customary back seats.

I raised an eyebrow and dropped my binder onto my lap. "What's what?"

He leaned over the back of his seat and pointed to my neck. "You've got this big, red... that's a HICKEY. Blink has a HICKEY on his NECK! That was so not there at lunch!"

My face burned red, and I sank down into my seat. "Oh, God, Snitch, _please_ don't do this..."

Snitch cackled as Skittery rolled his eyes and gnawed on a Gummi Bear. "So, where'd you get the hickey, Blinkers?"

"None of your business."

"Funny, I didn't know that there were any _girls_ at this retreat, Mr. Hardcore Hetero!"

"Snitch, if you don't-"

"Who was it?!"

With an exasperated sigh, Racetrack pressed the pause button on his CD player, grabbed me, and kissed me full on the mouth.

"There. It was _me_, see? We made out in the woods. Now will you _shut up_?"

Silence.

Then, Snitch beamed. "I knew it was you. I just wanted to hear you say it."

"... you are such a douche."

"I am _not_ a-"

Skittery jammed a lollipop in his mouth to shut him up.

"... those are my Starburst lollipops."

"Um... no, they aren't."

"Uh, yeah, they definitely _are_. I thought you ate them all!"

"... I lied?"

"_Bitch_!"'

Racetrack rolled his eyes and went back to his CD player. Snitch started screeching about how the bus was on the wrong side of the road. And I tried to steal my lollipops back from Skittery. Everything normal, everything as usual.

Except Racetrack's hand rested lightly over mine, and his thumb gently brushed back and forth against the back of my hand as we all pretended to bicker and ate each other's food.

I settled back into my seat with my reclaimed bag of lollipops, a sensation of lazy satisfaction sweeping through my body. I felt completely and totally at ease, so I relaxed, leaning slightly against Race.

I wasn't stupid; I knew that this serenity wouldn't last. When I hit home, I'd have to deal with my parents and my friends and a shitload of people that just wouldn't understand.

But I'd worry about that when I got there. At the moment, all I had to think about were my lollipops and my best friends and the boy whose fingers were laced with mine.

And, really, that's all I _wanted _to think about.

END CHAPTER THREE

END FIC

Woohoo! This mofo is DONE. I hope you all enjoyed reading it, because I definitely liked writing it. -beams- As I said before, this fic is dedicated to Ellegan (AKA Ellen and Megan) and Michelle because they rock and they actually did this dumb shit. Okay, I did it, too. Ahaha. Anyway. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, guys, and be sure to check out my other stuff! Don't have time to do real shout-outs, since my mother is screeching at me to get off the computer. BUT, thanks to:

Omni

Saturday

Braids

Artemis

Colleeny-bean

Ellegan (NEW YORK WOOOOO)

Aura

Mondizzle

Jess

Sapphikins

Twitchers

Dreamer

Leigh (ACK OH MY GOD I HAVEN'T GOTTEN LEIGH FANART IN SO LONG -worships!-)

LaMarshall (I cant believe you read this! -dies laughing-)

Two-Bits

Sistah Shorts

Ele

Berri (x2)

Buttons

You guys rock my socks. I'll be sure to update other stuff soon. But, now, as I shall do whenever I finish a multi-chapter fic, I leave you with a quote!

"Great spirits have always encountered opposition from mediocre minds." - Albert Einstein

Thanks for the support, guys!

--- Love, Sita ---


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